


Moon Time

by Azeran



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, OC's - Freeform, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Werewolves, real life meets mythology, sort of fantasy, this is my own plot bunny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4624893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people wait their entire lives for something fantastical to happen. They never know when it’s coming, or why. The proverbial bomb just drops into their laps like a happy little accident that‘s loosely disguised under the claim of it being fate, and from there on it’s all supposed to be sunshine and rainbows, puppies and unicorns. </p><p>Yeah, well, Duff never asked for some mind blowing change. Thanks, but no thanks asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To be perfectly honest, I don't expect anybody to read this. I'm uploading this mostly out of necessity, in all honesty. My computer has been on the fritz lately, and while I could upload just a draft of this, drafts are deleted after a month. So on the offhand someone does read all this...hope you enjoy? I've been working on this for months, and will be for several more. It's my first real attempt at writing a book, and in all honestly I'm just going with the flow. Don't expect a steady schedule, or anything really. But like I said, I don't expect anybody to read this!

Some people wait their entire lives for something fantastical to happen. They never know when it’s coming, or why. The proverbial bomb just drops into their laps like a happy little accident that‘s loosely disguised under the claim of it being fate, and from there on it’s all supposed to be sunshine and rainbows, puppies and unicorns. Typical sappy Disney bullshit. Sometimes it comes dressed up in the romanticized love at first sight cliché, or maybe there’s a speck of self growth hidden under all the starry eyes and gag worthy kissy faces, if they’re lucky. But the turning point always, ALWAYS comes complete with the revelation that until that quintessential, oh so important and utterly life changing moment, their lives had been absolute shit. Pretty much meaningless. Mundane. BORING. Take your pick. ‘Fate’ was going to shit all over it either way. Yeah, well, Duff never asked for some mind blowing change. Thanks, but no thanks asshole! She was perfectly happy with the way things were! No need for change here. Hell, her life wasn’t even boring! She ran a bar for a living, for fuck’s sake. Sure, the days could get a little sluggish, but the nights were filled with drunken reprobates knocking back shots and a base level of violence that’d make the WWE cream their panties. Words like dull and boring didn’t even EXIST in her vocabulary. Her mental dictionary just filled in the gaps with swears and vulgarity. And since running a business kept her on her toes, in no shape, way, or form was her day to day life meaningless either. Anyone who thought differently was a clueless bastard in desperate need of some cognitive recalibration. In layman’s terms, a fist to the face. Duff couldn’t lie; that part she was sort of looking forward to.

But lucky her, fate had finally crawled out of whatever hole it’d gotten itself into and had come knocking at her door. More like crawled in through the window, actually. After breaking it! Prick. Who the hell does that?! Oh, right. Thieves, rapists, drunkards. The list went on and on. The list also quickened her response time. Zero to sixty, three seconds flat. Impressive really. But she’d dutifully played the welcome wagon with her fist greeting his face in her version of a friendly handshake, that’s what mattered. One hit, and he was down faster than a raging drunk on new years eve. Not so luckily, it felt like her hand was fucking BROKEN. Fate had a really thick skull.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!” Duff hissed in pain, cradling the busted limb against her chest. Talk about a one hit knockout. Except the damage seemed kind of equal on both their ends, since her knuckles were dripping crimson from some vicious looking scratches and--were those teeth marks? “You--you bit me! Are you fucking kidding me right now?!“ She stumbled back as the guy wavered on the spot and spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. Gross. If only things could stay at that level of oddity, she might be ok. Things were never that simple though. Blood ignored, the guy was clawing at himself like a wild man and pulling out tufts of….hair? Duff squinted, fear coiling in her belly. Nope, not hair. That was FUR. He had a pelt of fur growing out of parts of him, and she was experiencing the wonderful pleasure of watching him shed it like some weird second skin.

Well hell. Guess this was the fantastical element to the whole turning her life around shtick. And honestly? It was way more terrifying than the books and movies made it seem. Messier too. The guy on her floor was shedding a coat’s worth of clay colored fur. FUR. Like, someone had taken The Wolf Man and decided to reenact it in her bar, except with a distinct lack of bone chilling howls at the moon and overly sharp teeth ready to disembowel her on first contact. Hurray for small miracles. Just because he hadn’t decided to chomp her bones though didn’t mean he couldn’t change his mind, and Duff was quick to put as much space as possible between her and the spastic guy while she grabbed a bar stool. If her fist wasn’t enough inspiration for him to back off, one good whack should do the trick. “Alright jackass! I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’ve overstayed your welcome! Get the fuck out now, and maybe I won’t break your goddamn skull!” Duff wielded the stool like a battering ram and watched the man writhe on the ground, choking down the panic that was trying to smother her lungs. Fuck, this was crazy! She came downstairs to double check the locks! There wasn’t supposed to be a--a goddamn WEREWOLF crawling through her window! In what universe did stuff like this even really happen?!

Fuck. Apparently hers. The fact that her wolf man looked like he was having a seizure or something was a bonus. And he kept on twitching and making these awful groaning noises until finally they just--stopped. All at once. Suspicious, Duff kept the stool pointed at him and gingerly nudged him with her foot, getting another one of those weird sounds in response, though it sounded less….rumbly? Goddammit, that didn’t even make sense! She nudged him harder, and this time the guy actually said something that was not only English, but a swear on top of it all. Great. Poetic deaths were so overrated. If she was going to get chomped to bits by a werewolf, might as well be one that didn’t have some misguided sense of romanticism. “Hey. Hey you!” Duff lobbed her foot back and kicked him hard right between the shoulder blades, flinching when her bare skin made contact with his. It was all wet and shit. Werewolf sweat? Fucking disgusting!

Either the guy was deaf, or he‘d just been ignoring her like a colossal asshole the entire time. Whichever, he finally seemed to catch on that she wasn’t going to let up and sluggishly lifted his head, still swaying side to side as if he were drunk. If not for the fur making a rough outline of his body on the floor, Duff almost could’ve believed that he was just intoxicated. It definitely would’ve made her feel less crazy.

“…Ah hell.” He scrubbed at one of his sweaty temples, his head cocked at an odd angle that made his hair stick up every which way. Under the yellowed light she could see his pupils; they were completely dilated, until all at once they retracted back towards the center and revealed surprisingly normal looking irises. No bloodthirsty red or coppery hues, or unnatural glowing. But there was a hint of fang when his lips curled back in a grimace, and her entire spine reflexively rippled with fear. If the coat shedding hadn’t done the trick, then that certainly did. Fuck. She had a legit, bonefied WEREWOLFon her hands.

Fuck it all. This really was just her luck. Duff gripped her makeshift weapon until her knuckles bled white and watched the man give one final twitch before a loud SNAP echoed across the room. She jumped about a foot into the air, somehow swallowing her startled shriek. Apparently the noise was him working out all the kinks, because one second he was on the floor panting like a dog, and the next he was stumbling to his feet and combing back his scruffy hair with a puzzled frown. “……Huh. This isn’t the shop.” He blinked slowly, swiveling his gaze all around the bar. There wasn’t a drop of understanding anywhere on that rugged face, not until his eyes fell on Duff and stayed there, drinking her in. “Oh. Hey there.” Fucking unbelievably, he had the gall to adopt an expression she could only call sheepish. “Uh…….this looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?

” ……Bad? BAD?! “Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” Her cheeks burned with poorly suppressed rage. The nerve of this guy! “What do you think, you maniac?! You broke into my home! You crawled through the window like a goddamn cat burglar, and then you fucking molted all over my floor!! Look! That’s all you! You did that!!” She jabbed her finger at the piles of fur mixed with specks of glass, hysteria clawing its way up her belly. The jackass didn’t even seem phased, damn him. He was completely casual as he stood there like an idiot, naked as the day he was born.

“You don’t need to shout. I’ve got pretty good hearing.” He cracked a nervous grin, though it faltered slightly under the fury coming off her in poisonous waves. “Ok, ok. I get it. You’re upset. Can’t say I blame you. But yelling’s not gonna get us anywhere, y’know? ” He took a step towards her, the tread of his feet heavy, despite being eerily graceful. All Duff could think of were those limbs being misshapen and morphing into giant paws tipped with razor sharp claws, and goose bumps prickled across her forearms. “We can figure something out. Nobody needs to get hurt-”

“Excuse me?!” Wrong move, wolf boy. Duff put as much space between the two of them as physically possible and wildly swung the stool, nails gouging into its beaten up leather seat. “I don’t know who you are, but if you even THINK about laying a hand on me, a punch to the face will seem like paradise when I’m through with your sorry hide!!!” Her chest heaved, heart pounding against her sternum and palms growing sweaty. But she kept a hold of her makeshift weapon and threateningly cocked it, glaring at the stranger with fierce blue eyes. “Want to try your luck? It’s no wolfsbane, but I bet it’ll still hurt like a bitch.”

Damn straight it would. He must’ve been smarter than he looked, because he backed off a few paces and lifted his hands in a clear gesture of peace. “Wolfsbane huh? Here I thought a silver bullet was the weapon of choice when facing….well, you know,” he gestured to himself. “Most people wouldn’t think of that. You a Gingersnaps fan?”

“What I’m a ’fan’ of is none of your fucking business,” Duff seethed, advancing on him and jabbing at his chest. “Don’t start acting like we’re best friends or something. You broke in here, asshole! I’ve got every right to beat you to a pulp!" Which was still really tempting, despite her damaged knuckles. Every time she flexed her fingers, they stung like a bitch. They were still bleeding too, making brilliant trails of crimson that ran down the back of her hand and dripped onto the floor. The splatter caught the man's attention, and he watched several droplets fall before lifting his gaze back to hers.

"Is that...?" Concern fitted across his face, his mouth twisting in a frown. "What happened to your hand?" He darted towards her and tried to grab the busted limb, nostrils flaring when he scented the sharp, metallic tang of blood coating her knuckles and wrist. "You're bleeding. When did you start bleeding? Did I-what did you cut your knuckles on??"

Duff wrenched her hand back. The fuck was his problem?! What, suddenly he gave a damn about her well-being? "Don't you dare touch me, you fucking bastard! You did this! I cut them on your damn teeth!!" She lashed out and knocked him in the ribs with her stool, driving him back against the wall. "Or should I say FANGS?!"

Panting when the stool's legs drove into his ribs, the man recoiled against the bricks and grabbed at the seat, a choked noise tearing free of his throat. "Fangs is f-fair--uh, you mind not trying to puncture my lungs? I kinda like breathing."

"Yeah? Maybe you should've thought of that before you broke into my home!!" Duff shouted. "Not breathing is the least of your problems!" She put all her weight into the stool and watched him gasp in pain, a twisted sense of pride welling up inside her. Suffer asshole! He fucking deserved it! "I could have you fucking arrested for all this! You know that? Breaking and entering, threatening me--hell, you actually attacked me!!! Here! Take a good, long look!" She brandished her bleeding knuckles at him, ignoring the wave of nausea that passed over her when his hot breath fanned across the teeth marks. "See? You did this!! You and your stupid fangs!"

"A-about that," he wheezed. "I didn't mean to bite you, but you c--caught me off guard. It was r-reflex! You know..bite first, ask questions later?" Struggling against the pressure on his chest, he grabbed the stool by its front legs and suddenly snapped them in two. The harsh crack of wood was offset by Duff's surprised yelp, and she stumbled forward, colliding against the seat, and respectively his chest. "Sorry, sorry! Not my best idea." He caught her flailing arms and flinched when she shrieked, carefully holding her in place. "Geez, calm down! I get you’re upset. You've got every right to be pissed at me. Really, you do. But screaming like a banshee won’t get us anywhere. Ok? I didn't know I bit you. I was half out of it when you punched me, and I just--snapped. And that's kind of a big deal. Like, a BIG deal. So can we just, I dunno...." he hopefully grinned at her. "Have a few drinks? Hash some things out?"

That settled it. This guy was seriously INSANE. “You really think I’d want to talk?! After what you did!? You’re fucking crazier than I gave you credit for,” Duff spat, smashing her elbow into his neck. The stool clattered to the floor as he recoiled with a choked gasp, and she backpedaled quickly, kicking at the hand that grappled for her. “Don’t touch me!”

“But--” he shakily picked himself up, reaching for his arm. There were words taking shape on his lips, things he probably couldn’t get out just yet, and Duff wasn’t in the mood to accommodate him. Hell, why would she be?! The bastard broke in and attacked her. A few punches didn’t even scratch the surface of reparations. And he couldn’t keep his damn hands to himself!

“Don’t even think about touching me, wolf boy.” She stopped him vocally dead in his tracks, a trace of surprise flitting across his eyes. Duff shoved him away before they could really connect with her own and stormed to the bar’s only entrance, ripping off the door chain and throwing the deadbolts. “Now you’re going to get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see your hide anywhere NEAR my place again, you hear me? You come within a foot of me, and I’ll have the cops breathing down your neck before you can even THINK about baring those nasty ass fangs of yours!”

“That’s more of a v-vamp thing…” which was what he started to say, until Duff grabbed him by the scruff and all but tossed him out the door. Even then, the guy did everything he could to move back towards her, something almost--worried in the way he looked at her. Funny, since he was the one with a busted nose and sore neck. “I get you’re p-pissed, but we really need to--to talk!” He threw his hand out when she tried to slam the door, offering what he probably assumed was a harmless smile. It might’ve been, if those damn teeth hadn’t been embedded in her hand just a few minutes before. “C’mon doll. Give a guy a chance.”

Ha. Yeah right. “In your dreams, asshole. Rabid animals don’t get second chances!!” Duff threw herself against the door with a snarl. “And here’s a tip! Next time you decide to go all rabid and break into somebody’s house, crawl through the doggy door! Maybe they’ll think it’s cute!” Because she sure as hell didn’t. The door rattled in its frame, half muffling the guy’s surprised yelp on the other side as it slammed in his face. Duff turned the deadbolt and, just for good measure, shoved a chair under the knob, ignoring the sounds she could hear on the other side. Fuck him. She wasn’t listening. “Go away asshole!!” She waited, one ear cocked, but it took forever for silence to finally fall upon the room. Even then, Duff was on her toes. Only after sunlight started streaming into the room through the broken window did she relax a little. “Fuck....” scrubbing her face with the heel of her hand, Duff slumped against the door and groaned. She just couldn’t believe this. Of all the things to happen to her, it had to be…this! A normal break in she could handle. That was fairly tame in comparison to her new found reality. But no! She had to have a--a……fuck.

“Werewolf,” Duff muttered through grit teeth, raking a few loose strands of black out of her face. Seriously, werewolves? Fate had really decided to throw her through a loop here. “Motherfucker.” She kicked at a clump of fur and crossed her arms. if she hadn’t seen the damn guy mid transformation, she might’ve been able to convince herself that she either imagined the whole thing, or……hell, maybe she was crazy. But no point in pretending it hadn’t happened. There wasn’t much point in wishing either. The evidence of his time here was all over the floor, and he’d probably left some good scratches on the door with his impressive claws. Stupid ass wouldn’t stop throwing his little temper tantrum when she threw him out. What was he expecting though?! A parade? Flowers and candy? An ok for him to stay? They were all impossible, but that one deserved its own commemorative shot for reaching new levels of stupidity. It had to be a guy thing. Without a doubt. And she’d gotten more than a look at him to know that pointed ears and tail be damned, he was a MALE. A male werewolf. It didn’t sound any better after she repeated it a few times. Hell, it just got WORSE. She’d actually seen a werewolf! He broke through her window and tried to--what? She wasn’t even sure she knew. But then he’d morphed back into a human, which was somehow not an improvement to the mutt status. His loud mouth definitely had something to do with that.

Ugh. This was ridiculous. Duff refused to think about it. It made her temples fucking throb, and now she had a busted window to deal with, plus the mess on her floor. Goddammit. Fantasy was supposed to stay just that; FANTASY. Reality was hard enough to deal with. And right now, her reality was royally kicking her ass. She needed to clean up this mess, pop some painkillers, and god help him if that asshole showed up again in the meantime. Duff wanted to pretend this was all some messed up dream. A dream that resulted in bitten knuckles. Right. Because that was totally realistic. “But fuck if I can’t dream though,” Duff muttered. Because dreaming was ten times better than this shit.


	2. Chapter 2

To say she was on edge would be a harsh understatement. Duff couldn’t so much as breath without imagining that--that bastard flopping around on her floor like a dying fish, or remembering those sharp teeth cutting into her hand, breaking skin and spilling bright crimson blood. Fuck, she even remembered the scent of him! Musk and fur, and freshly overturned earth turned damp after the evening rain. Not an altogether bad smell. Actually, Duff could’ve enjoyed it in a semi-normal scenario. It sort of reminded her of home. But nope! It belonged to a werewolf. That cleared up any odd little misconceptions she might’ve been having pretty damn fast. If fate was trying to ply her with stupidly sentimental things like that, it’d have to try a hell of a lot harder. She wasn’t easily swayed.

The sound of shattering glass jerked her out of her thoughts, and Duff heaved a sigh, glaring at the source of the noise. Two guys were shoving and swinging at each other while they both shouted at the top of their lungs. Something about an unfair bet, or cheating. The amount of fights that happened around these parts, it was hard to keep track of them all. And she really, really didn’t fucking care. She had bigger things on her mind. “If you assholes don’t cut it out, you’ll be out on the curb for the night!” Duff hoisted her half empty bottle of beer and threateningly jabbed towards the door, tacking on a cool smirk. “You know the cops around these parts hate loiterers. You want to get on their bad side? Be my guest. I won’t stop you. But they don’t much care for sorry bastards that run out on their tabs either, and you guys have racked up a pretty penny. So cough up or shut up!”

Unsurprisingly, the scuffle was over just like that. The two idiots went back to their drinks and sulked, shooting her wary looks all the while. Let them, the big babies. They knew better than to fuck around with her. Duff didn’t make idle threats. She had no problem kicking people out, and the cops who roamed this part of the city weren’t exactly known for their compassion. Too many drunks and druggies made for an equally ruthless police force. Even she’d been on their bad side once or twice. Her bar was a den of insobriety and clashing tempers. That was on the good nights. And nobody had a temper like her. It didn’t take much to set her off, and once she was going at it, not much could get her to stop. Cops least of all. A few had tried in the past, which was a bad idea. Duff had an infamous right hook, and a cute gold shield didn’t do much to deter it when she was pissed off.

Not like she was going to be throwing any punches anytime soon though. Duff gave her busted hand a withering scowl, flexing her fingers. It hurt, no disguising that. She’d cleaned and bandaged it after dealing with the mess her visitor had left behind. The fucking prick. But the stupid bandages made it hard to do much of anything. As if the pain wasn’t enough! The only saving grace in all this was her being ambidextrous, so she could still work. Having one hand out of commission still sucked though. Duff didn’t even want to THINK about the nature behind her injury. Fucking werewolves. If that furry bastard even so much as considered taking one step over her threshold, she’d show him that wolves weren’t the only territorial ones. He’d walk away with way more than a measly busted nose.

…..Shit. So much for not thinking about it. Duff scrubbed her hair, irritation bubbling up inside her. No matter how much she tried to forget it, it was fucking impossible. For one thing, her window was still broken, albeit covered with plastic. Plenty of talk was flying around about that one. Most of her oh so charming patrons probably assumed she’d thrown somebody through it, or busted it herself in a fit of rage. Her reputation was pretty damn colorful. Ha! If only they all knew the truth. Probably didn’t help that her fist was all wrapped up, and she hadn’t hesitated to throw punches in the past. All for good reasons! The drunks around here got a little too chatty sometimes. And grabby. Anything she did after that was well deserved, and typically resulted in some bruised egos and a few worse for wear cuts and bruises.

Usually she was facing off against liquored up bikers and whiny slobs though. When her foes got all mythical in nature, that was another matter ENTIRELY. Duff needed to invest in some mistletoe oil or something. Maybe that would keep all the monsters and ghouls away. Or she could-

“Hey there hunny!” The shout came out of the throng, as did its boisterous owner. Duff groaned when the leather clad man pushed past the sweaty bodies and moved towards her, but her lips quirked despite it all. Of all the assholes who plagued her life day after day, Greg was one of the few she couldn’t bring herself to hate. A scruffy biker who passed through town every other month or so, he was always grizzled and inviting with his bourbon colored gaze and graying hair threaded through with beads. He was also a guy who’d once made a crack about her looks, then walked away sporting a fat lip and black eye. Funny how that actually drove some sense into him. Now instead of wolf whistles or cat calls, Greg had all but taken it upon himself to be the unofficial bouncer of her bar when he was in town. Or when Duff didn’t feel like doing it herself. He also claimed he was keeping an eye on his favorite girl. Sentimental prick. It was hard not to like him.

“Thought I told you never to call me that.” Duff rolled her eyes and grabbed a bottle of jack from under the counter. Greg liked his liquor strong, and he was burly enough to handle it, so she always saved a special something just for him. Plus he tipped well. Her favorite kind of customer. “You look like you rolled through a dozen mud puddles on your way over.” She glared at his boots, which were speckled with damp brown. “I fucking swear, if you tracked mud all over my floor your sorry ass is cleaning it up.” She’d seen enough mess this week alone to last her a lifetime.

Greg grabbed the seat in front of her and laughed. He was windblown, damp from the rain and even more wrinkled than she remembered. No doubt he’d rolled in that very night. Duff would bet her entire life savings that his Harley was parked outside, still strapped down with gear and engine hot. Greg rode in whenever the mood struck him, which made for some pretty sporadic visits. Thankfully. She liked the old grizzly bear, but that doting routine of his got old fast. “And a warm hello to you too, baby doll! You’re lookin’ prettier every time I see ya.” He grinned, clapping her forearm and giving it a fierce squeeze. “Anyone try to wrangle my girl while I was gone?”

“Lucky them, no,” Duff quipped, pushing the bottle of Jack across the bar. “I’m not the wrangling type. There’s no leash strong enough to keep me cowed.”

“That’s right. Any of ‘em say differently, you just give your good ole uncle Greg a call. I’ll handle it.” He unscrewed the cap and drank from the bottle, a few drops of whiskey rolling down his chin and wetting his beard. He swiped his hand over the mess haphazardly, watching her over the bottle’s rim. Drunk, old, whatever, he had a keen eye, and it fell all too quickly onto her damaged hand. “Fun times I’m guessing.“ Greg leaned on the bar and offered her the bottle, arching a salt and pepper brow. “Y’know, there’s some talk goin’ around about you throwing a drunk out the window last night. There any truth to that hunny?”

Nosy old man. “Wouldn’t you love to know?” She swiped the bottle up and stole a swig for herself, ignoring the persistent ache in her hand. She’d popped some Tylenol earlier, but it wasn’t doing shit to help. For the thousandth time that day Duff cursed her furred nemesis and fate’s stupid machinations and swallowed again, Greg watching her all the while. Setting the whiskey down with a solid thump, Duff licked her lips and frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” Greg drawled. “Just lookin‘. You’ve got a sort of look about ya tonight. There’s something different in your eyes.” His mouth suddenly split into an all out grin, and he propped his elbows up on the pitted wood, leaning in close. “Oh, you dirty little liar! You’re keeping secrets from me sweetheart. And here I was, thinking’ it was all rumors and shit! But it finally happened, didn’t it? Some lucky dog came sniffin’ around behind my back and swept ya right off your feet!”

“E--Excuse me?!?!” What sort of bullshit was this?! “No! Fuck no! You’re out of your mind, old man! Nobody’s done anything with me, you can count on that,” Duff spat, her cheeks blooming with color. All the whispers when people thought she wasn’t looking, the hidden grins. Shit! “Is that what they’re all saying?” She jabbed a finger towards the throng of people drinking and mingling. A good handful saw her glare and quickly shifted their eyes away. Uh huh. Fucking guilty as charged. “That--ugh!” Duff ripped the whiskey right out of Greg’s hands and downed a good fourth of it. So much for her esteemed reputation.

“Aw hunny, don’t be mad. You know we’re all foolin’ with you. You can’t blame us. If some guy’s got you in his sights, we wanna know about it. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all on her lonesome. It ain’t right.” Greg reached over the scarred countertop and plucked a clean glass from its cradle, waggling it at her. “Hey now, c‘mon. If you’re gonna drink, at least share with the crowd.”

Tch. Right now all the alcohol in the world wouldn’t be enough to make her feel better. Still, Duff poured a glass and gave him the bottle back, black fingers tapping an anxious pattern across the glass. “I can’t fucking believe they’re all gossiping away about my love life. What is this, high school?”

Greg chuckled. “Told ya somethin’s different. Can’t expect me to be the only one noticin’. They’re all a curious bunch.” Nudging her share of the alcohol closer, he grinned at her. “It’s not that bad, is it? All we want’s our favorite girl happy! That so wrong?”

“Yes,” Duff grunted. “It’s fucking awful. My love life is none of their damn business. Or yours, you old pervert.” More like her lack of a love life, which newsflash, she was perfectly fine with! It wasn’t exactly for a lack of trying or anything. She just had a hard time connecting with anybody. Most people were assholes, only looking for one thing. Duff wasn’t above a quick fling or something, but that sort of shit always got way too messy for her personal comfort. Same with relationships. So nope, no thanks. She had the bar, her friends, and nothing to fuck up a good routine. That was about perfect in her books. “If I wanted all you drunks to know about my private life, I’d send out a memo.” Throwing down her glass and coughing through the burn as the whiskey rolled down her throat, Duff gave the biker a dirty look. “And since I know all those rumors are probably your doing, let me clarify something for you. Nobody made any advances on me. I punched this crazy asshole in the face and broke his nose. That’s why my hand’s all beat up. Ok? That enough intel for you? Now go spread it around, you damn gossip. Get all the rest of them to shut the hell up.”

“Sure thing hunny. But whatever I say’s not gonna make much of a difference.” Busy looking over his shoulder, Greg cocked a thumb towards the door. “Looks like they’ve got plenty to talk about already.” 

“What? The hell are you talking about?” Duff scowled. The usual horde of people were filing in from outside, no surprise there, but they parted like the red sea when a grungy figure trailed in after them. He would’ve fit in perfectly, except for the fact that he was obviously a stranger. And the small fact that he was clutching something in his right hand that had no place in a setting like this. It was a small bundle of violet colored blooms, framed by dewy green leaves that were still dripping water all over her floor. Duff didn’t care about the damn flowers though. Now, the one holding them... “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she hissed. 

Everyone in the bar started whispering and laughing amongst themselves when the guy warily took a few more steps into the room, searching its expanse until he caught her eye. Duff glared at him, daring him to take another step, only to get a sheepish little grin in response and the rhythmic thud of his boots treading wetly across the floor as he weaved through the crowd to get to the bar. Greg kept looking between the two of them with that knowing look on his face, ignoring the string of profanity she spat under her breath in favor of spinning around on his stool and welcoming the bastard with a hearty clap to his shoulder.

“Well hey there stranger! Don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before.” Greg tossed a little smirk her way when Duff fixed her glare on him. She was going to murder him, first chance she got. Friendship wouldn’t spare him from the hell she’d deliver upon his nosy ass. But he’d have to get in line. First she was going to kill---HIM.

Scuffing his feet against the floor and looking decidedly uncomfortable, the bastard from last night met her eye and gave a weak grin. “Hey there. Remember me?” He hoisted the dewy bouquet in his fist, showing off the vibrant petals and dripping leaves. “I, uh, brought you something. Figured it would be pretty stupid to show up empty handed.”

Well, he had that much right. “Are you fucking with me right now?” Duff was seriously contemplating risking her other hand and smashing up his nose again. It didn’t even look like she’d left a mark! There were plenty of half empty bottles lying around though. If she moved quick enough, maybe she could whack him over the head and get in a few more blows before anybody bothered asking stupid questions. Or called the police. She didn’t favor the idea of getting thrown in the loony bin because some stupid and SUPPOSED to be unreal creature had decided to muck around in her life. “You shouldn’t have showed up at all,” Duff growled. “In case you didn’t get the memo last night, I’ll spell it out for you. You’re NOT WELCOME HERE!”

Practically the whole bar turned towards them after that. It didn’t take a genius to realize they all thought there was some sort of lover’s spat going on, and the mere thought was enough to make her shudder with disgust. Her standards weren’t over the moon outrageous or anything, but dating a mythological monster that could rip her throat out if he wanted to was a big no-no!

To his credit though, the guy didn’t immediately spazz out or go all psycho beast in face of the sudden attention they were getting. That was something. “Wow. Uh...pretty excitable bunch you’ve got here. They always like this?” Shuffling his bouquet from hand to hand and peering around awkwardly, he forced a small grin that all but screamed danger. Something was off, and he was doing an absolutely shit job of hiding it. “Look. I know you probably don’t want to talk. You’d probably be happy if I fell down dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“You’ve got that right,” Duff snapped. Greg rolled his eyes and knocked her forearm with his glass, all but telling her to shut up. For a would be protector, he was doing a shit job. Traitor. He was too wrapped up in her make believe romance to see that this wasn’t a spat between lovers, partners, boyfriend and girlfriend. Whatever. This was a spat between the beast and his dinner. Fucking figures that she could only rely on herself around here, especially when it came to NOT being an idiot. “You know what would really make me happy? Smashing your stupid face into the wall. And if I wasn’t afraid you’d fucking break it, I’d do it too.” Damn werewolf and his preternaturally thick skull. Weren’t vampires supposed to be the super strong ones?

“Yeah. See, that’s kinda why I’m here.” The guy’s shifty expression only got worse, and he passed a nervous glance over Greg. Aw, how precious. Was the poor baby afraid she’d out him? “I was thinking…we should talk about all that. You know--what happened last night? I mean, it was mostly my fault, and I admit that! Should’ve been more careful. But it happened, and--ugh. I’m shit at this.” He dropped the flowers beside her hand and touched the gauzy bandages wrapped around it. Duff noticed how he steered clear from Greg, angling his body to the side in a naturally protective stance while the bastard sipped his whiskey and watched them like they were his favorite cheesy soap opera. “Look doll. Can we just go somewhere and talk? Person to person?”

Because he definitely counted as a person. “Back up. What the hell do you mean, WE? You’re the one who did stupid shit, not me! I had no part in it!” She was only just replaying everything the asshole had said when Duff realized exactly what it sounded like. That explained Greg’s quiet chuckling into his drink, the perverted ass. “Oh shut up! It wasn’t like that!” Cheeks blustering a rosy pink, she snatched up the half bottle of whiskey and brandished it at the two of them, her temper as red hot as the skin of her knuckles. “You’ll be in the same boat he is if you don’t cut it out! And YOU,” Duff scowled at the other man, who had the decency to look intimidated. “I want you out of here, right now! Whatever you think we have to talk about? Forget it. I don’t owe you a damn thing. Hell, you owe me!! You busted my window! You fucking made a mess of my bar! And YOU caused THIS!” She whacked at him with her bandaged hand and had the distinct pleasure of watching it collide with his face for the second time in two days. Except this time he actually fell on his ass, colliding with a stool on the way down. The sight alone was so worth the pain flaring across her knuckles.

“Damn. Done looks like you gave him a concussion,” Greg chimed in, forgoing his drink in favor of watching the spectacle. Biased or not, he seemed pretty proud of a blow well struck. Too bad that didn’t stop him from offering the guy a hand up. “You whacked him pretty hard hunny. Look, he’s all dazed!”

Oh please. Dazed her ass. Not like the living wolf man couldn’t take a punch. He was too damn good at it, actually. Nothing a few more blows couldn’t solve though. “Not hard enough. He’s still moving, isn’t he,” Duff muttered.

“Ugh...barely.” The pained grunt from below was sluggishly followed up by scuffed hands grabbing at the bar top, and a lopsided smirk appearing after them. Duff caught herself growling when the owner finished picking himself up and rubbed his jaw, looking--fuck, no worse for wear. “Was that your busted hand? Jesus. You throw a mean punch.”

“Thanks. Want to know how the second one feels?” Duff readied her fist again, despite Greg’s muttered advice to ’cool down.’ The only thing that really stopped her was the way the intruder’s mossy green eyes blatantly fixated on her hand, taking in the bandages and slight flecks of blood marring them. “What, admiring your handiwork?” Why his creepy stare made her hesitate, she didn’t know. Something about it unnerved her though. She flexed her fingers and watched as the guy frowned, concern all but stamped across his face. Shit, that wasn’t a good sign. Whatever was going on, it was serious. 

Goddammit. She was going to regret this. “Greg? Go fraternize. I know you want to. I need a few minutes alone with-” Duff shot him a look. The fucker’s tail was practically wagging. “Ugh.…just give us some privacy.”

“Sure thing sweetheart. You two deserve a nice, long chat.” Shit, it was like watching the damn sun rise. Greg couldn’t look any more pleased if he tried. Giving them both a grin that honestly promised nothing but trouble, he slid off his stool and wandered into the crowds. If there weren’t five new rumors cropping up by the time she closed, Duff would be shocked. But none of them would compare with the actual truth. Speaking of, she was alone with the nuisance now. Or as alone as she was willing to get with a killer werewolf. This still screamed bad idea, but she could handle herself. 

Fuck. She hoped so anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

“Whatever you’ve got to say, make it fast. I’m still tempted to throw you out on your ass.” Duff wasn’t exactly eager to hear what the bastard had to say, but something, hell if she knew what, kept her from getting rid of him. Fuck, it was tempting though. Her fingers itched to wrap around that scruffy mop of hair and drag him over the threshold, preferably through the most embarrassing means possible. Or the most painful. She was flexible. “Well? I don’t have all night asshole.” Duff snatched up Greg’s abandoned glass as she scowled at the man across from her. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“Sharp.” He took a seat and smiled weakly, shrugging off her frown. “It’s my name. I figured we should at least be on a first name basis or something. You know, since…uh, yeah.”

Well that was rich. “Common courtesy from a monster? You really are full of surprises.” His smile vanished, earning Duff’s smug grin. Suck it weirdo. A few snide comments were the least of his problems. If he couldn’t handle this, then he was a dead man walking. “Cut the bullshit. Why don’t you be a good dog and tell me what the hell you’re doing here, Sharp. What do you want?”

“I’ve been trying to explain! I--” he raked in a harsh breath and braced his forearms on the bar, a nervous twitch to his fingers. Duff hadn’t noticed before, but he had little scars all over his fingers. Wounds long healed, now just a memory. How many had come from last night? “Listen, this isn’t easy for me either. You think I wanna be here? I know what I did. I’m guilty doll, no doubt about it. But you,” Sharp sighed. “I owe you an explanation. And I’m not leaving until I get it done.”

“Fuck off. You think that’s the only thing you owe me,” Duff muttered. Her hand throbbed, as if responding to her irritation. This guy--Sharp. He was a creature from legends, the silver screen monster! He was damn well going to explain how that was possible. These were the kind of stories her mom had told her as a kid, not something that was actually supposed to be real life! “Stop beating around the damn bush and get on with it! What exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? Because I’ve got a few questions of my own, if you’re still all tongue tied.” Hold on, back the hell up. Duff pinned an icy blue stare on the bastard and growled. “Did you….you called me doll!! Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

“Um….sorry?” Spots of color spread across his face, collecting heavily on the bridge of his nose. It’d definitely seen a few breaks in its day, and Duff sincerely hoped she was the cause of one of them. “You sure pick weird thing to get angry about,” Sharp mumbled under his breath, probably thinking she couldn’t hear. Newsflash asshole, the bar wasn’t THAT loud. She could hear just fine. “Dammit, we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. Again.”

Understatement of the century. “Don’t you mean paw?” Duff matched his stance and leaned forward, a tangle of black falling over her shoulder. “Whatever you’re trying to accomplish here, you’re failing. Miserably. None of this is making me hate you any less. In fact, punching you in the face is looking more and more appealing by the second.”

“Wouldn’t recommend it. Your hand’s already pretty banged up.” Sharp looked at her bandages with their small flecks of rusty red and flinched, deliberately avoiding her eyes. “My memory’s a little hazy, but I remember you socking me one right in the face. You caught me dead on too. Broke my nose and everything. It was a good hit.” But not good enough. Duff’s knuckles itched, the wounds prickling softly. “Hell, if I hadn’t jerked back….we could’ve gone on with our lives, both of us none the wiser.” There, there was that damn grin again. That fake as hell, nervous ass grin. Duff hated it. Hated HIM. “I’m sorry about all this. I really am. This is all on me, and I’ll do everything I can to help you out. It’s a tough way to be in, especially your first few times.”

That sounded way too foreboding for her personal comfort. “The hell are you on about now? First few times?” Her entire hand throbbed, and a nasty little lance of fear stabbed through her gut. Oh fuck, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. But there was a real life werewolf sitting across from her right now, which made all the doubts in her head go quiet real fast. If he was real, then all the shit that came with him was too. Like the fangs. The scary sharp canines Duff had seen up close and personal just last night when she’d-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She went deathly pale and gawked at him, terror and fury piling up inside her. “This is all some sick joke, right? You’re screwing with me.”

“I wish I was.” His shoulders taut with tension, Sharp reached over and unhooked the small clip keeping her bandages taut, unwinding them inch by grueling inch. Duff hissed, but kept her hand still, watching her injuries be exposed to the muggy air. The whole of her skin was a mess of bruises, and yet none of that did a decent job of hiding the vivid teeth marks at their center. They stood out garishly, red and puffy and oozing. It was all the confirmation either of them needed to confirm what Duff knew he was telling her.

“You fucking sonofabitch,” Duff whispered. “You--I’m..!”

“Infected? Yeah. I mean, I’m pretty sure anyway. These things aren‘t an exact science, but I know it’s transferred through biting, and I did technically bite you. Doesn’t get much more cut and dry than that.” Sharp crunched the soiled bandages into a ball, gnawing his lower lip. He was as much at a loss as she was. Duff was contemplating severe violence though, no matter how bad her hand was screwed up, while Sharp was obviously trying not to make an ass of himself. 

Ha. Too late for that, wolf boy. That train was LONG gone.

“I can’t believe this.” Her fingers ached, but she flexed them away, pulling the bites taut until their scabs cracked and glossed over with blood. Infected blood. She was living a legit horror movie now. Fuck, suddenly the whole true love at first sight gig didn’t seem so bad. At least a fairy tale romance wouldn’t include sprouting fur come the next full moon!! “You bastard….” Duff closed her hand back into a fist and dragged in a shaky breath, every inch of her body tense as a bow string. “This is completely fucked up.”

Sharp winced. “It’s no walk in the park, I’ll give you that.” He hesitantly took her hand in his, scouring his thumb around the bruised skin. Duff didn’t even think to stop him. “Ok, I’m betting apologies are the last thing on your mind, but uh…… I am. Sorry, you know. Nobody deserves this sort of shit. If I could take it all back somehow, I would. Twice over! But I can’t. It doesn’t work like that.” His attention wavered, lips tugging up at the corners. “It could be worse? I mean, at least I’m no vampire, right? Think how bad that could’ve been!”

“…….Are you serious.” Motherfucker. Not only was he a werewolf, but a dumbass to boot. This day just got better and better! “I’d say it’s a bit late for apologies, wouldn’t you?” Duff snatched her hand away. “An apology’s not going to change what you did to me! You bit me, asshole! What, should I be grateful? Relieved?” Her fingers closed around the neck of the half empty bottle of scotch, bleaching her knuckles bone white. “Hey, I won’t be a bloodsucking monster! No coffins or crypts for me! You’re right Sharp. That makes me feel SO much better. Man, why didn’t I see it that way from the get go?” She hoisted the bottle with a pitched growl, sweat dotting her brow in a cool glaze and a sour taste at the back of her throat. Duff didn’t care. She only had eyes for the skittish man sitting across the counter. “You know what? Maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that you’ve single-handedly ruined my entire FUCKING LIFE!”

The entire bar went quiet, throwing Sharp on the defensive. They didn’t exactly need an audience right now, not that Duff gave a shit. She was pretty much lost to the blood-lust and her sickening sense of dread. “Ok, ok. Be cool. You’re angry, I get that. But screaming like a banshee and punching my lights out won’t change things. Like it or not, this?” He nodded to her wounds. “Not going anywhere. We’re pretty much stuck together, for better or worse. You can’t deal with this on your own, and I can’t leave. Not now.”

“Can’t? Or won’t,” Duff spat. “Because the way I see it, I’ve got a few options of my own. I can throw you out of here like the straggly mutt that you are, and nobody will fucking question it.” She dropped the scotch bottle and cracked her knuckles, pushing aside the twinge of pain and disgust when her skin brushed open wounds. “Or, I could give you a taste of my left hook first! We’ll see if you look so pretty after I break your nose all over again!”

“Which part of punching me won’t solve anything didn’t you hear? It won’t help! You’ll still be, well,” Sharp gestured between them, frustration radiating off him in waves. “Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but lying won’t do either of us any good! We need to talk about this doll, you and me. There’s lots of shit you need to know before it happens, and we’re on kind of a tight schedule.”

It. Duff didn’t need any clarification on what IT was. Fear dug its claws into her chest and clenched down tight. Holy shit, this was real! She was going to turn into that--that thing she saw last night! And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. She was well and truly fucked, all because of HIM. 

“This is…this is all your fault,” she breathed, jerking back. Liquor sloshed about when she hit the wall behind her, but Duff steadied herself and slowly rounded the bar, red and black staining the edges of her vision. “If you hadn’t shown up, none of this would be happening.” She wouldn’t be bit. She wouldn’t be turning into a goddamn WEREWOLF!! Fuck, she was going to be sick.

“You’re preaching to the choir. Believe me, I know what I did. Even if the memory’s a little fuzzy.” Sharp wavered on his seat, watching her go sluggish, a tremor to her step. “…Hey. You ok? Not feeling so hot?” He caught her by the forearms and steadied her when Duff violently started to sway, her whole world going down the rabbit hole for a split second. What the hell? “It hits you pretty hard the first few days. It’s your body adapting or something to the change. I’m not really sure. Guess I should’ve given you a heads up.”

How fucking helpful. Duff wanted to smack him across the face. But since breathing made her feel nauseous, she settled for swearing under her breath. “Don’t fucking touch me, you bastard. I’m fine!”

“Yeah, sure you are. That’s why you almost keeled over.” Exasperated, Sharp cupped her chin and tilted her face up towards the light. He had at least two inches on her, the prick. “You’re looking a little green around the gills there doll. Vision alright? You’re not seeing two of anything, are you?”

“If there were two of you, I’d shoot myself,” Duff muttered. That’d be hell on earth. One of him was bad enough. 

“That’s the spirit. Seriously though, no double vision? How many fingers am I holding up?” A digit waved in front of her nose, Sharp’s green eyes assessing her, watching the flicker of her pupils back and forth. Damn wolf. He couldn’t be a complete smartass, then play hero a split second later. Duff pushed aside the chilling sense of vertigo and shoved him away, stubbornly brandishing her middle finger. Technically speaking, that wasn’t a wrong answer. Sharp thought so too. “There we go. Let the hate flow forth. Maybe it’ll keep you from collapsing to the floor.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” Duff fought not to do just that and caught the edge of the bar to steady herself, shirking away from Sharp’s would be helpful hand. “I told you not to touch me!”

“That was before you almost fell on your ass. Sorry. Guess I should’ve had you pegged as the independent sort.” Which didn’t stop him from watching her struggle to put herself to rights. Neither did it stop Duff from spitting all sorts of foul mouthed curses under her breath. “Fuck. There’s a time and place to be stubborn,” Sharp mumbled, looking over his shoulder. “You’re gonna tip somebody off at this rate. You can barely stand!”

“And whose fault is that again?! Right. The psychotic werewolf trying to play nanny.” Who also had a bad hearing problem, apparently. Duff snarled at the sudden touch to her forearm, Sharp’s grip trapping the crook of her elbow against his palm. “Let go!!”

He didn’t. Sharp backed her against a stool and then bodily lifted her onto it, his fingertips still leaving imprints on her fair skin. That--huh. Duff flustered, pursing her lips. Werewolves. They always had some sort of fucking super strength. She hadn’t been expecting it from this guy though; he looked too scrappy to have any real muscle behind him. “Don’t. You can be stubborn later. Right now we’ve got some pretty serious shit to talk about, and we can’t exactly do that if you’re passed out on the floor.” Sharp glanced at the crowd. “Last thing I need are more punches getting thrown. And something tells me your buddy back there’s only playing nice because he thinks there’s something between us.” His lips twitched. “I guess he’s not totally wrong…”

“Like hell he’s not! There’s nothing between us, you hear me? You infected me with your freaky curse. That’s it. Case closed.” Fuck, it sounded like he’d given her herpes or something. Though that was definitely preferable to all this shit. You could treat an STD. Far as she knew, there was no curse for the so called full moon fever. Dammit. What was she supposed to do now? Duff could play pretend for a while maybe, like it never happened, but fate was going to catch up with her when the next full moon rolled around. Kind of hard to play pretend with fur sprouting all over your body.

“Uh, doll? You’re fading out on me again.” Sharp’s voice forcefully grounded her to the stool, his touch warm against her skin. Duff blinked, shutting herself off when she felt the telltale prickle beneath her lashes. She hadn’t cried in years. Like hell she was going to start now. So she clenched her jaw and tried to ignore him, even though it was pretty much impossible. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re ok. Stupid question, right? Nobody would be. All I need from you is a listening ear. This is all scary as hell, especially at first. But I can make things a little easier on you. Believe me, you want easy. I had to figure all this out the hard way, and it sucked.” All too aware of her eyes following him, Sharp placed his hand on the bar behind her and leaned in, half caging her smaller form. She had an out though, if she wanted it. That was nothing if not deliberate on his part. “I’m the one who screwed up. I know that. Let me at least try to make amends?”

Fuck him, she didn’t want to. Spending any more time with this prick could only end badly in her book. Look at all the trouble he’d caused so far! But dammit, this was his fault. He infected her. Which meant nobody else was more qualified to help her now. Stupid irony. “…..Five minutes. You’ve got five minutes, you hear me?” Duff shoved his arms away and fled the stool, jerkily gesturing for him to follow her around the bar. Her backroom would offer some sort of privacy, not that she was eager to be alone with the guy. He was a monster. A monster with very sharp teeth, and big green eyes that just begged for forgiveness. Fuck. Duff threw open the door in the corner and stalked inside, hearing his footsteps tread softly behind her. She was so going to regret this. She just knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

The door closed shut behind them, bathing the room in a darkness Duff was familiar with. She hauled crates and boxes back here all the time, using the small space as a storage room, but right now its shadowy corners and heavy timbered ceilings were something she did NOT want. She wasn’t a fan of horror movies, and this screamed monster movie cliche. Like hell was she aiding that trope. It was toeing the line already. 

“Fucking werewolves…” Duff hit the light switch and glowered at the room’s other occupant, who suddenly seemed determined to hug the door, maybe even turn tail and run. “Don’t just stand there. Are you going to talk or what? I’ve got better things to do with my time than wait for you to get your fucking act together! Talk or walk, jackass.” Weren’t they working by a ticking clock? Ugh, bad thought. So not what she needed right now.

“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d actually listen. I, uh--I don’t exactly have a speech prepared,” Sharp mumbled. In the dingy light cast by the bulb, he looked far more rugged, shadows painted beneath his eyes and a good smattering of scruff on his cheeks and jaw. Not what Duff would’ve expected from a monster, but looks were clearly deceiving. What kind of werewolf brought flowers as an apology anyway? Flowers he clearly just remembered, if his clumsy smile was anything to go by. “Got something to put these in?” Sharp held up the small bundle with its dripping petals. For the first time Duff noticed that the stems were wrapped in tissue, half soaked through and crumbling where his fingers had clenched too tight around them. "Wolfsbane," Sharp explained almost sheepishly. "It's alright dried, but the fresh stuff packs a nasty punch. I figured, circumstances being what they are..."

"Wolfsbane." Holy shit, Duff wanted to hit him. Wolfsbane? Really? Anyone with a lick of common sense knew that stuff was poisonous! And thanks to a mother who’d hailed from a world steeped in old myths, she knew perfectly well it was meant to dissuade werewolves. It was their version of garlic, but worse. Damn him, that was sort of thoughtful. Emphasis on the SORT of. "You brought me toxic flowers as a peace offering?” Duff snorted, shaking her head. “Great. If I don't die of infection, that should do the trick. Thanks a lot."

“Funny enough, it doesn’t work like that. If you’re infected, wolfsbane won’t affect you much anymore. It’s only does real damage in the other form.” Seeing the murderous look that crossed her face, Sharp’s ramblings quickly shut up. “Sorry. Just thought you should know.”

Ha! That barely touched the tip of the iceberg. She was supposed to know a lot of things, if his pleads were anything to go by, but he was taking his damn time telling her. And Duff wasn‘t known for her patience. “For fuck’s sake, would you stop with the bullshit and tell me what I need to know already? What I really need to know,” she snapped. “I’m this close to wringing your neck. Keep stringing me along, and you really won’t like the result.”

Sharp frowned, dropping the bunch of flowers on an empty crate. “I’m not stringing you along. This is hard to talk about, alright? Cut a guy some slack. It’s bad enough knowing all this is pretty much my fault.” He scratched his thumbnail against the wood, absent but cautious in the way he caught her gaze beneath his short fringe of lashes. “Ok. It’s like this.” Sharp expelled a harsh breath and took a seat. “This whole thing was one big accident. You ever notice how a lot of the buildings around here look the same? I--I messed up. Thought your bar was my place. It was dark, I couldn’t see-”

“A werewolf who can’t see in the dark. Now I’ve heard everything,” Duff scoffed. “What next, huh? No super sonic hearing? Missing a few extra teeth?”

“I’m not a vampire. And we both know I’ve got all my teeth.” The memory of them gleaming in a pink lipped mouth came to mind, and a shiver ran down her spine. If Sharp saw, he wisely kept it to himself. “The point is, I didn’t MEAN to break in. I left my keys at home, and breaking down the door would’ve been way too risky, so…” he mimed breaking a window. At least he had the decency to look regretful. “I’ll pay for that, if you want. That too.” Mossy eyes glanced towards her hand; it didn’t look much better in the room’s shitty lighting. Fuck, it actually looked worse. Duff grimaced, crossing her arms over her chest, a prickling sensation itching her knuckles. Sharp ignored that too, though it left his gaze falling on her instead. She didn’t much care for that. “…..I wish I could tell you that was some plain old bite. That’s want you want to hear. But I’m not gonna lie to you doll. It’s not. I was half changed when you decided to try rearranging my face, which makes for a fifty-fifty chance you’ll get infected. That means you could….well, yeah. I guess you‘ve figured that much out for yourself.”

Of course she had. She hadn’t been able to STOP thinking about it. It was like a fucking nightmare, always teasing at the back of her mind. “I could end up like you,” Duff muttered, because like it or not she needed to hear it. It was clarifying. “Because of you, I’m going to become the fucking Wolfman.”

“Technically you’d be a wolf girl. Woman,” Sharp amended. Like that was going to offend her. “But yeah. That’s kinda the gist of it. I don’t know if you’ll notice anything different until then, or if you’ll experience symptoms earlier. It’s hard to say. You’re not me.” Shrugging, he picked at the tissue wrappings on the flowers, deliberately not looking her way now. Coward. “I was craving raw meat like crazy my second week in. The bloodier the better. So if you like your steak charred, you might be in for a nasty surprise.”

For fuck’s sake, maybe her punches had done some damage after all. Knocked a few screws loose in what passed for his brain. Duff couldn’t think of any other reason why the moron would say something like that, unless he was just stupid. “You are seriously asking for a broken nose right now. Why would you even say that?! Isn’t it bad enough that I’m going to become a bloodthirsty monster every full moon?! What the hell would make you--!” Wait. Hold the fuck on. Raw meat? She’d have to eat raw meat? Oh shit. Raw was only one step above fresh! Would she have to hunt!?? Duff’s cheeks lost whatever color she’d managed to steal back, bleaching a shade just above bone. She couldn’t do that. It was one thing to eat raw hamburger or something, but hunting? Killing a live animal and feasting on as if she was nothing more than a--a mindless beast? Shit, and what if she attacked someone! Like, an actual person!?

No way. Duff wasn’t fucking doing that! She refused, thank you very much!“Fuck that.” Duff steeled her jaw and took a step towards Sharp. “This isn’t happening. You hear me? This is not happening! You said there was a fifty-fifty chance, right? I might not turn at all!”   
“I guess….it’s not impossible?” Sharp uneasily shifted on the crate. “I wasn’t full wolf when you hit me. That could make a difference. It’s a toss up though. Pure luck. I wouldn’t count on it, if I was you. This isn’t an exact science or anything doll. There’s still lots of stuff I haven’t figured out about all this. The only thing I know for sure is how to play it safe. And if I was you? I’d plan for the worst. Invest in some heavy duty chains, a padlock or two. At least until we know for sure what’s gonna happen.” He winced. “It‘s a shitty deal, but better safe than sorry, right? Neither of us want another accident.”

Cold wept into her veins, freezing her to the spot. That--that motherfucker!! Who the hell did he think he was?! “Accident? Accident my ass! You’ve got no room to talk! You’re the one who broke into MY home, remember? Where were your fucking chains?!” Duff spat at him, vindictive and pleased to see him flinch. “Spare me the safety talk. I’m not the dangerous one here. YOU are! You should take your own goddamn advice, and get a fucking muzzle while you’re at it!”

Sharp’s head snapped up. The crate groaned as he forcefully climbed to his feet, his mouth thinning into a razor line. “Why? I’ve never needed one before. Most people run AWAY when they see a werewolf right in front of them! They don’t try to punch them in the damn face!” He met her shocked stare full on and got right in her face. Duff flushed, but his hands were grabbing her before she could back away, put some space between them again, fingertips digging into the meat of her arms. “I didn’t mean to bite you. You hit me, I acted on reflex. I’m not the only guilty party here. You threw the punch. That’s not on me.” His fingertips pressed down harder, forcing her closer. Then closer still, until the only thing separating them was a meager inch of air. It wasn’t enough. Sharp was right in her face, his own close enough for her to see the striations of lighter viridian slashed through his iris, and the emotion there. Nothing was left to the imagination. Fuck, he could hurt her. He was stronger. He- “Stop looking at me like that,” Sharp grimaced. “I’m not gonna attack you, ok?”

“Like hell you won’t! My hand says differently.” Duff squirmed in his grasp, and when that didn‘t work, she panicked. “Let go! Fuck you, let go of me!”

“Will you stop acting like you’re gonna gut me if I do?” His grip loosened, though not enough for her to get free. The bastard made sure of that. “Cut it out! Geez, will you just listen to me for a sec? This is kind of important! I get that you don’t wanna hear all this You’re wishing it never happened, right? But it did. You punched me, I bit you. I infected you. It HAPPENED. And nothing either of us do will change that.” Sharp sighed, brushing his thumb against the crook of her arm. More than anything, that put her on edge. Duff’s whole body was hyper sensitive to the eerily tender touch. If he was trying to calm her down, he was doing a shit job of it. “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. I could say it a thousand times over, and it wouldn’t change nothing. There’s no going back now. We’ve gotta live with our mistakes. That means owning up, coming to terms with all this.”

“You think it’s that easy? You snap your fingers and suddenly I’m going to accept becoming a furry monster three nights a month? Because that’s not going to happen! This isn’t something I can magically will myself to be ok with!” Her hand throbbed, responding to the tension radiating throughout her body. Duff didn’t need to look at it to know the bites were inflamed, maybe even bleeding again. The coppery smell gave that away.

“That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words all around.” Sharp dropped his left hand and cupped her aching knuckles, blood smearing across his skin. More of that damn tenderness, and it made her want to scream. Except he kept talking, and she listened. Dammit, she listened. “I’m not gonna pretend this won’t be hard. It will be. Of all the shitty ways to learn werewolves exist, this was the worst. I guess it’s something else we have in common,” he smiled, woeful and conflicted. “You’re not like me though. You don’t have to go at it alone.”

Duff hated that she could tell how genuine he was. This man didn’t have a single insincere bone in his body, the fucker. Not that it made a difference. Sincere or not, he was the one who‘d screwed up her entire life. “Save it. Who says I want your help? You’re the one who did this to me! YOU!” Him and his big mouth. “I don’t want your help! I don’t want anything to do with you!” Spitting and snarling, Duff slammed her temple against his chin and drove her foot into his knee. What fucking luck, it actually worked. Both collided with a nasty sounding thud that promised a whole shit storm of pain, if not broken bones, and Sharp dropped like a fly to the floor. It gave her and her bleeding hand a chance to escape, and hell, was she relieved!

“GREG!!” Duff threw the door open and stalked back into the bar, where every head turned to face her. Like hell if she cared. “Greg!!” The biker in question was huddled in the corner with a few other guys, empty glasses littering the tabletop. He looked up at her called, smirking with amusement when she stabbed the air behind her, pointing at Sharp’s groaning figure. He was an untidy mess of limbs on the floor, struggling to pick himself up again. Fucking served him right. “Make your ass useful and drag this trash outside! He‘s overstayed his welcome.”

“Sure hunny. If that’s what you want.” Damn right she did. And Duff waited until Greg and his little entourage were stalking into her storeroom to grab the prick before she allowed herself to stand back and watch. She got a great look at the blood trickling down his chin. The same shade of crimson painted her fingers, which gave a deep throb when they passed by, Sharp’s arms draped over their shoulders as he stumbled like a drunkard around the bar. Duff sneered, but something uncomfortable squirmed in her gut. She felt….bad?

No. Not a chance. He had it coming! She refused to feel any pity for the guy, no matter how much those puppy dog eyes pleaded with her before the door got slammed shut in his face. Dammit, he DESERVED it! Compared to what he’d done to her, this was nothing! Nothing at all. Yeah. Duff nodded to herself, clenching her battered hand into a fist. The pain grounded her, droplets of blood staining the floor beside her feet. She was not going to feel sorry for him. She wasn’t! This was all his fault. And nothing would convince her otherwise. Not a single damn thing.


	5. Chapter 5

Five hours. Five LONG ass hours, and the bar was finally deserted. Everyone had cleared out after two, except for fucking Greg. What a shocker. He just had to stay behind and grill her for information, the old gossip. If not for the leather and grizzled beard, Duff could’ve seen him chatting up those nosy soccer moms and cliche housewives that were always on tv, exchanging the latest news while raving about so and so’s newest haircut, or their fancy ass new minivan. He pretty much did all of that already with his little gang, though their interests were bikes and booze, and their rousing topic of the night had been her love life. She couldn’t even remember how many times she’d yelled at Greg that NO, Sharp wasn’t her boyfriend, and YES, she absolutely wanted him thrown out on his ass if he ever dared come back! Greg had laughed it off, but promised anyway.

Too bad he wasn’t here now. Duff could use some of his burly strength. Grunting angrily, she twitched as yet another soft ping rang throughout the room, the annoyingly obvious sound of a pebble knocking against glass. This had been going on and off for the past half hour, and her patience was wearing thin. "Motherfucker," ping. Duff growled, refusing to so much as look in the direction of her bedroom window. Never in her life had she regretted taking the space above her bar as home sweet home....until now. "I'm going to-"

Ping.

"Rip that asshole's head-"

Ping!

"Right off his fucking--!!"

PING!

"SHOULDERS!" 

She waited, frustrated and close to exploding with all of the curses she'd picked up over the years. Finally, there was blissful silence. Five seconds of it. Ten, twenty.

.............................ping.

"God fucking dammit!!!!!" Duff ran to the window and all but tore the window open. And, sure enough, there he was, looking way too pleased with himself as he dropped his handful of stones back on the pavement and casually waved. She was going to murder him, then stuff every single one of those stupid rocks back down his throat. “You can’t take a hint, can you?!” She grabbed the first thing she could find and hurled it at him. A damn shame it was only a boot, not something harder. “Which part of I want nothing to do with you didn’t you understand??”

“Uh--the first part.” Smarmy bastard. Still, Sharp stuffed his hands in his pockets and backed off a step, casting his features in waning moonlight. It had to be a trick, shadows cast by the weak silvery glow, but he seemed more grounded now, less desperate and tired. He barely wavered as he looked up at her, his sage eyes dark and inviting. “Sorry about the pebbles. I figured I owed you another apology though. For earlier? I wasn’t trying to piss you off or nothing. Not really, I mean. You got under my skin, and I said some stuff that I probably shouldn’t have.” Chuckling, Sharp cocked his head to the side. “Not sure I deserved getting manhandled by your bodyguard, but whatever. Water under the bridge. Doesn‘t matter.”

“It doesn’t.” Duff stared at him, a frown knotting her brows together. The fuck did it take to run this guy off? Shit! Talk about stubborn. "Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a kid or something? Nobody in their right mind would stick around after all that!” He had to have a death wish. It was the only logical conclusion. Or he was just completely crazy.

Sharp shrugged, scuffing his foot against the ground. "Yeah, well….sue me. I guess I've got an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. You can throw me out as many times as you want. I'll keep coming back." Glancing down, he picked up the ratty boot she'd thrown and juggled it from hand to hand. "You know, you aim better when you're punching something. Or maybe it's just me, I dunno.” Sharp offered it up to her. “Want this back?"

Yes. That was one half of her favorite pair of boots. “Screw you! What’s it going to take to get it through your thick skull that I want nothing to do with you? You ruined my life!” Duff snatched up an old paperback she hadn’t touched in over a year and threw it at him, tremendously satisfied when it clipped his shoulder. So what if it hardly phased him? It made her feel better dammit!

“Ruined is kind of a harsh word, don’t you think? Changed, sure. But ruined?” Just like with her boot, Sharp retrieved the book and dusted off its cover on his jeans. She could see his grin even from the window. “Huh. Little Red Riding Hood? Seems kinda ironic, don’t you think? Maybe even a sign.” He flicked through a few pages, thoughtfully looking her way. “Gotta say, I didn’t have you pegged as the type to like fairy tales. Too…tame and all.”

“I guess you’ve never read any then. The wolf gets gutted in that one,” Duff shot back, thrilled with the way he cringed and tentatively closed the book. “Relax. It doesn’t bite.”

“Very funny.” It seemed like a long time before Sharp spoke again after that. Under Duff’s stare he shifted and toyed with her belongings, knotting the laces of her boot in a jumble. He was the living definition of discomfort, an image aided by the dreary overhang of clouds and slight drizzle of rain that started up again, peppering his hair with fat droplets. “……I usually don’t either, you know. Bite, that is. I mean, I never have before.”

“Could’ve fooled me. With teeth like that, like hell you’re a vegetarian!” She’d gotten an up close and personal look at them. Nothing was going to wipe the memory of their gleaming tips from her memory, nor how much it fucking hurt when they stabbed into her palm, breaking skin and spilling blood. Duff flinched, splashes of red flitting before her eyes like a gory kaleidoscope. That shit would haunt her nightmares for weeks to come, and their rising star was right outside her window. “Why me then? You claim you’ve never bit anybody before, so why me?” Duff let her anger carry her, block out the pain shooting up her wrist and making her fingers twitch. “You could’ve broken into anybody’s place, but you picked mine. And when I tried to fucking defend myself, you attacked me! Tell me why!!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! Quit making it out like I did! I told you, I made a mistake! I thought this was my place! In case you didn’t notice, all of the damn buildings around here look alike,” Sharp snapped, though he regretted it almost instantly, his voice tapering off to almost nothing as he backed off a step, putting space between him and Duff’s window. “I had to get inside before dawn. That’s when I transform back, and I wanted to be out of sight before that happened. What if somebody saw me? They could call the cops, or worse.” Sharp pushed back his bangs and sighed. “Biting you--that was an accident. I panicked. Nobody’s ever seen me like that before, and I didn’t expect you to actually punch me. So I reacted. Instincts kicked in, and I can‘t apologize enough for that. All I can do now is try to make it up to you. I owe you that much.”

And a hell of a lot more. Duff watched him fiddle with her book, stroking its cracked spine with his thumb. If not for the fact that she’d seen him transform for herself, there’s no way she would’ve ever believed this guy was an actual werewolf. “Fuck your apologies. Haven’t you done enough already?”

“Yeah….I kinda figured you’d say that. You’ve made it pretty damn obvious that forgiveness is nowhere in my future. And I--I respect that. Doesn’t mean I like it, but you’ve got every reason in the world to be mad at me. No denying it.” Sharp braved her gaze and dropped her boot on the ground, taking a step towards the window. Her book was tucked away in his back pocket, safe from the storm. Huh. Funny that. “Here’s the thing. No matter how mad you are, I’m not going anywhere. I…can’t. I’ve got a responsibility to you now. You threw the punch, but a fist to the face wasn’t gonna do me much damage. But what I did? That’s permanent. There’s no going back. Believe me, if there was a way to do it I’d tell you. We wouldn’t be in deep shit together. You wouldn’t have to be stuck with me.” He stopped beneath her window and looked up, blinking through the water streaming down his face. “I’d change this if I could. If you won’t accept my apology, then at least believe me when I say that.”

Fuck him. The last thing she wanted to was buy into his martyr crap. He didn’t deserve that. “Why should I? You’re basically asking me to trust in, what? Your good word? Fat chance.” Duff leaned on the windowsill and suspiciously glared at her offender. “…..How did you even know where I live anyway? Were you fucking stalking me?”

“Uh….common sense? Reconnaissance?” Sharp caved beneath her glare. “Alright, alright. I could--smell you. Your scent was all over the bar, and it carries upstairs. Didn’t seem likely that you’d use it as storage, and I never saw you leave tonight, so I just put two and two together.” He shrugged. “It’s a wolf thing? I promise, it’s way less creepy than it sounds.”

“You think so? Because that sounded pretty damn creepy!” What did she even smell like to him? Dinner? Fuck, why would he even do that in the first place! Oh, right. WEREWOLF! Duff shuddered, blaming the rain. She wasn’t scared or anything. Not of Sharp. She’d already knocked him down twice, and third time’s the charm.

Sharp’s head suddenly cocked to the side, and even through the goddamn rain she could see his nostrils flare. “Seriously?” Forest green eyes widened for a split second, then narrowed with exasperation, Sharp muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “women,” under his breath. “Ok, ignoring the fact that you’ve gotta be the most bullheaded woman I’ve ever met, we still have to figure this all out. We’ll work on your misguided fears later. Right now I need you to talk to me doll. Actually talk, and listen. Whatever problems you’ve got with me personally? They don’t matter. Not right now.” Sharp crossed his arms and planted his feet wide apart, determination radiating off his soaked body. It suddenly struck her that he wasn’t going anywhere. If the stance wasn’t enough to tell her that, then his eyes were. The tick in his jaw did the job too.

Well shit. What was she supposed to do now? Go down there and pummel his face in? Keep chucking shit at him until he finally gave up and left? Because Duff didn’t think there was a big chance of that happening. She’d already thrown him out twice, and still Sharp kept coming back. Tch, and he called HER stubborn! A small part of her reasoned that she could always call the cops, or Greg. Somebody! Cops could arrest him for trespassing, and Greg would say screw the niceties entirely and throw him off the nearest bridge. There were plenty of options….but Duff hesitated. Blame her conscience, or her pride, whatever. She couldn’t fucking do it. 

“…..You better not have any more damn surprises,” she muttered. A slight grin tweaked Sharp’s lips, and her cheeks burned with a flush. “Wipe that smug look off your face! You make one wrong move and your ass is mine! Got it?” 

“Got it,” Sharp parroted. “Wrong move equals ass kicking. Simple enough to remember.” Noting her waiting hands, he tossed up her boot, which Duff caught with a satisfied grunt. Next came the book, this with a bit more care, his scuffed fingers gently stroking the worn cover before he lobbed it her way. “See? I’m not so bad. And I promise, no more surprises. The last thing I need is you getting angry at me again and doing something we’d both regret. Or, uh, mostly me, I guess. Seems to be how things usually work out between us--”

“Shut the hell up Sharp.” Duff slammed the window shut, cutting off the patter of rain, as well as his soft chuckle. Obnoxious bastard. Maybe she should punch him again, just for good measure. Anything would be better than listening to him ramble. Which, lucky her, she’d promised to do, for hell knows how long. “Fucker,” Duff grumbled, grabbing her other boot and trudging reluctantly back downstairs. There went her hopes of relaxing after work, catching up on some sleep. Her day just got better and better.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain had picked up by the time Duff made her way outside, and it immediately made a fine mist on her hair that shone like opalescent black pearls. Fog curled in wisps on the ground, lapping at her heels and threatening to crawl up her legs. Her mother would’ve called it ominous, making her grab for the nearest relic or old world charm. Duff had never bought into all that old spiritual stuff, but now she was thinking a charm or two would be useful. After all, there was a werewolf on her doorstep. Couldn’t get much more old world than that.

“Well look at that. A dog who knows how to heel.” She closed the front door behind her and rested her weight against it, ready to go tearing back inside at a moment’s notice. Sure, she’d come down from her relatively safe room to talk with the guy who’d turned her whole life upside down, but like hell that meant she had to trust him. Or that Duff was entirely comfortable with the idea of being alone with him when it was this close to storming. For now though, she waited. If Sharp did any funny business, she’d drive a boot into his skull and run inside. Speaking of hard headed werewolves though, hers was currently sitting at her feet beside the bar‘s front stoop, a cigarette burning weakly between his fingers, the rain threatening to put it out every other second. A lethargic stream of smoke wafted around him, unfurling from his lips in a coiling stream. Through the gray his gaze met hers, dark as a primordial forest when the beasts roamed free.

“What can I say? I’ve picked up a lot of talents over the years.” Sharp joked. Taking one last drag on his cigarette, he flicked it away into the night. Its little ember was almost instantly swallowed up by the mist, winking dimly before the reddish glow disappeared. Duff refused to see the painfully obvious symbolism, because fuck that. This guy was an asshole, sure, but she didn’t think he was a murderer. Just….a monster. Yeah. Because that was so much better. “Hey. Will you ever stop looking at me like--that! That look right there,” he pointed at her, or more accurately the bleak twist of her lips. Duff hadn’t even noticed she was scowling. “I won’t hurt you. I mean, wouldn’t I have done it already if I was gonna? We’re all alone out here. Nobody would know.”

Fuck, he was a moron. Keeping digging yourself into that hole, wolf boy. “You already have that covered. Remember?” Duff held up her hand, which looked pretty nasty even by horror movie standards. She hadn’t bothered to put any new bandages over the bites, and they were without a doubt infected, all red and oozy around the two biggest prick marks. “You don’t need to hurt me. These are the gift that just keeps on giving, courtesy of that cesspool you call a mouth.”

“Says the woman who’s got vinegar for blood. Are you like this with everyone, or am I just that special?” Sharp dug into his pocket and withdrew a pack of cigarettes, plus a battered old lighter that had seen better days. Popping one between his lips, he lit up and exhaled a fresh stream of smoke, brushing off her irritation like a dog would flies. His nonchalance was kind of impressive. “If you wanna stand there all night, be my guest. But this will probably go a lot more smoothly if you’re comfortable and stuff.” He offered her a smoke and shuffled over, making room beside him on the doorstep. If not for the darkness and foreboding mist, it might make for a pretty quaint picture. At the very least it was an invitation, completed with Sharp’s ridiculously hopeful smile.

“Cute. I’ll stand though, thanks.” Sarcasm threw up a wall between them, and his smile dimmed, not that she cared. Still, Duff snatched the proffered cigarette from him and grudgingly let him light it up. Vengeance was a bitch, but being petty wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “So why’d you bring me out here? Are we supposed to have a heart to heart, release whatever warm and fuzzy feelings are lingering just beneath the surface between us? This isn’t some bullshit Disney romance. Maybe I don’t hate you-” Sharp started to perk up, and Duff slammed the door on that REAL fast. “But I definitely don’t fucking like you. I’m fifty different shades of pissed off, jackass! That’s not going to change anytime soon.”

“I get that. I’m not asking you to like me doll. I-”

Hell no. Duff threw up her busted hand and stopped his protests dead flat. “We’re not friends. You don’t get to use some cutesy nickname for me, got it? My name is Duff. Fucking use it.”

“Oh--sorry. I guess I thought it’d be easier on you. It’s kinda personal, using someone’s legit name and all. Right?” He must have realized how stupid that sounded, because Sharp got really interested in staring at his cigarette all of a sudden, a smudge of red on his cheeks. Duff couldn’t help but snort. Fuck, he was ridiculous. That got him flustered? 

“You’re an idiot. Who even fucking thinks like that? When has a nickname ever been less personal, huh?” 

“I dunno. Just seemed logical to me.” He got over it though, crimson fading to a blush pink as he let go of a mouthful of smoke and turned to look at her, one leg jiggling up and down.The anxious rhythm got under her skin real fast. Not that him staring at her was much better. It was actually a hell of a lot worse. 

“Stop it. You’re creeping me out.” 

Sharp shrugged, tapping some ash onto the street. “Hate to break it to you, but there’s not a whole lot else to look at. It’s kinda late, and the streets are deserted. You’re the most interesting thing out here right now.” He crushed his dying cigarette beneath his heel and then turned to face her completely, the bulk of his body blocking out the night’s cool breeze. The rain was slowing to a whisper, and the sound of it sprinkling the pavement and Sharp’s battered jacket was oddly….soothing. That, and the taste of smoke on her tongue had the tension ebbing out of her little by little, until Duff felt comfortable enough to face him as well and lower her hand, and with it the barrier of fog surrounding her fingers. “Well hey, that’s loads better. Now I can see who I’m talking to,” Sharp teased. “You finally warming up to me Duff?”

“Don’t be stupid. The only reason I’m even remotely ok with all this is because I’m ninety percent sure you won’t maim me, or eat me, whatever. I don’t know what the hell it is monsters do.” Besides making her overwhelmingly uncomfortable. That much she did know. He was doing a grand job of it too, gawking at her with that cheesy ass grin on his face. Feeling her own start to burn, Duff shoved at him and prayed to whatever fucking deity existed that he wouldn’t see her blush. He was bound to take it the wrong way. The last thing she wanted was to encourage him. “I said stop already! You want a black eye to go with your busted nose?”

His only response was a half assed shrug. “Couldn’t hurt to have a matching set. I’m a fast healer anyway.” He angled his head to the side, showing off what had looked like pristine, though scruffy skin under the bar’s murky lights. Now Duff saw just the faintest undertone of bruises around the bridge of his nose, carrying down around the fleshier parts. Sharp didn’t look the least bit bothered by it either. Supernatural healing was really unfair. “If it makes you feel any better, they still hurt like a bitch. Your punches,” Sharp clarified, his mouth softening at the corners. “I’ve never met anybody who hits as hard as you do. What’s your secret? You’re not Wonder Woman in disguise, right? Because that could be pretty cool.”

“I’m Irish.” Duff rolled her eyes, flicking her cigarette away before the smoldering butt could scorch her fingers. “If you dragged me out here to talk about stupid like this, I really will hit you again. You’re wasting my time Sharp. I’ve got better things to do than listen to you babble all night long.” She could be luxuriating under a hot shower, or sleeping! But no. Because she’d had a damn werewolf whimpering outside her window, Duff had caved and decided to give him a chance. She’d assumed he’d actually want to talk serious though, not this dumb as dicks banter they had going on. Her shoulder blades were already starting to prickle with discomfort again. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out,” Duff snapped. “It’s fucking cold out here, and I’m tired.” She was also fast losing her patience.

“Alright, chill. It was just a joke. I didn’t mean to offend you or nothing.” Leather rustled in her ears, stubbornly refusing every single one of Sharp’s attempts to shirk it down his forearms until he successfully got his coat off and draped it over her shoulders. Duff’s first instincts were to refuse, shrug it off, but the coat was deliciously warm to her chilled skin, and the scent of leather was familiar, even with Sharp’s faint musk mingled in underneath. So she ignored the impulse and muttered her thanks, curling into the jacket’s heavy folds. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’d be a pretty big asshole if I let you freeze.” Sharp tucked it more tightly around her, his fingertips grazing across the top of her hand. “……I’m guessing it still hurts. Mine didn’t heal up for a few days after I got bit. It’s like the infection has to run its course before your body can take advantage of the new healing powers it brings along.”

Wonderful. Something vaguely positive about all this. “And after that?” She didn’t need to ask. Duff knew what was going to happen. She’d start changing, becoming--like him. Relatively normal looking until a full moon rose in the sky, and then she’d sprout claws and fur, becoming a feral beast that prowled the nights in search of some poor asshole to rip apart. That was her fate. Motherfucker, this was so unfair. Duff buried herself in the warmth of Sharp’s jacket and hid her hand under the worn layers, unwilling to look at the stupid bite marks he’d cursed her with. “So what have I got to look forward to exactly? Other than you keeping me up all night. Massive hair growth? Deformities? Hunger pains?”

“It depends. There’s no way to know for sure until it happens.” If. If it happened. Duff wanted to cling to the meager chance that she might make it out of all this unscathed, even though she knew it was unlikely. “I can tell you one thing though. That right hook of yours is gonna get a hell of a lot stronger. You’ll be able to shatter a guy’s jaw in one punch, if you’re not careful. And you’ll wanna be careful Duff. You’re already pretty eye catching without people noticing how strong you’ve gotten.”

“Right. Because super strength is my biggest problem right now. Not the fact that I’m going to change into a giant wolf when the full moon hits.” Sharp needed to get his damn priorities straight. Duff rolled her eyes and dug through his jacket pocket, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and promptly stealing one while he looked on with bemusement. Tch, let him. After all the shit he’d pulled, the least he could do was let her bum a few extra smokes. “So tell me, oh knowledgeable one. Is there anything about this stupid curse of yours that you DO know for certain? Because it’s starting to sound like a whole lot of nothing in my book. I might sprout extra hair. I might get more aggressive. I MIGHT turn into a fucking Amazon and start shattering people’s bones like they’re glass.” Duff pursed her lips and blew a ring of smoke in his face. “At this rate, I should become a fucking nun and go into permanent isolation…”

“That’d get pretty boring. Besides, I don’t think nuns are supposed to curse like a drunken sailor. So they probably wouldn’t let you join.” Sharp waved the rings away, arching a brow. “I can’t really see you in a convent anyway. That’s all sorts of wrong. You’re way too….uh--”

She could see him sort through a few choice words, each one making his mouth strain tighter, restraining laughter. Apparently none of them were deemed fitting, or just placid enough to avoid Sharp getting his ass kicked, because he muttered a hasty “never mind,” and started staring at his knees, avoiding her gaze. Ha. Coward. If only that’d meant his silence too, Duff could’ve been happy. No chance of that though. She wasn’t that lucky. “Listen. If you’re looking for a manual on all this stuff, then you’re out of luck. I only know what I went through when I got bit, Duff. No more, no less. It’s not fair, but that’s just how it is.” He worried his hands, scratching at a few bumps and calloused patches on the heel of his left. “All I can do is promise to tell you everything I’ve learned, and help you out when the shift comes.”

“IF,” Duff barked. “You mean, IF it comes. You said it might not, remember?”

“Duff. C’mon. You’re smarter than that.” Sharp blindly stole her cigarette and took a drag, the sudden steel of his voice oddly compatible with his rugged appearance. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but we should plan for the worst. Just in case. We’ve got a month until the next full moon, and I’d feel a lot better about all this if you weren’t going in blind.”

“Oh please. Spare me the bleeding heart routine. Why do you even care anyway?” But this wasn’t about caring. This was his sense of guilt, and that stubborn streak Duff wanted to beat out of him with her fists. Or a bottle. She wasn’t picky. Though something silver tipped might be useful, come to think of it. She already had a bunch of wolfsbane back in the loft, thanks to Sharp--not that it would work all that well. He flat out said it didn’t affect them much, which was honestly disappointing. Duff would’ve loved nothing more than to stuff those poisonous blooms down his throat and watch him choke on them. Unless he was lying……

No. Sharp had a lot of faults, but being a liar wasn’t one of them. That much she could tell. He could’ve easily abandoned to her fate, or lied about who, no, WHAT he was, and he didn’t. Hell, she’d been harping on him to hightail it out of her life since the beginning, giving him every chance to run, yet here he was, sharing his cigarettes and whatever pitiful wisdom he had to offer. It was gutsy and stupid. Mostly stupid. Duff respected that.

“….Uh, Duff? I get that you were joking and stuff earlier, but about the whole muzzle thing? I’m thinking, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. I mean, no reason to make the same mistakes twice, right?”

And just like that, what little respect she had for him evaporated. “Shut the fuck up Sharp.” Duff snatched the cigarette from him and stomped it dead beneath her heel, jolting to her feet in a flurry of raven hair and well worn leather. “Whatever twisted idea you’ve got about me and my mouth, DROP IT. There’s no way in hell I’d ever let you gag me.” Gagging was the doorway that led to her getting chained up like an animal, and after that she was at the point of no return. She couldn’t, no, WOULDN’T let that happen. “Now get the hell off my doorstep before somebody sees you. It’s late. I want to go to sleep.”

“Who’s gonna see me at four in the morning?” Sharp argued, looking up at her with a frown. “We still have a lot to talk about.”

“So? We can fucking do it later,” Duff snapped. “I’m not exactly going anywhere dumbass. We’ve got a month until I turn anyway, right? If you can’t cram everything you need to tell me in that time, then you’ve got a serious problem.” She touched the doorknob, sensing him tense behind her, ready to argue. Goddammit. “Don’t even think about trying to stop me. It’s been a long day, alright? All I want to do right now is get some sleep. You want to teach me werewolf etiquette or whatever? It can wait, at least till tomorrow.” Maybe by then she’d be better able to come to terms with all this shit. Doubtful, but it was a possibility. 

“Duff. I know this sucks, but the sooner we talk-”

“What? It’ll all magically get better? Fuck off. We both know that’s a lie.” Duff swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, slumping inside his jacket. The leather seemed a lot heavier now, threatening to swallow her whole. Stress was a real bitch. “Sharp. Please. I just need a night to get my shit together, alright? This isn’t easy. I’m tired, my hand hurts like a bitch--” Duff pinned him with a bleary stare, exhaustion dragging her shoulders into a slump. Goddamn, she was tired of explaining herself. Tired of arguing. “All I’m asking for is a night. One night, Sharp. You think you could give me that?”

It could’ve been the sallow light cast by the street lamp, but Sharp suddenly looked pretty pale. “Shit....I’m sorry Duff. I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. I--” he shook his head, frantically waving his hands. “You’re probably sick of hearing me talk, huh? I sure would be. Have you been sleeping? I didn’t. Stayed awake for days after I found out. Kept worrying about what was happening to me, all the changes and stuff--” Sharp cut himself off with a grimace, hastily retreating. “Sorry, sorry! Fuck. I’m making things worse, aren’t I?” 

“You’re definitely not making things better,” Duff retorted, watching him wilt. For a moment, she almost felt a little bad for the guy. He was trying. It was a shitty effort, yeah, but that was Sharp. In his own way, he still meant well. Ugh. For the sake of her own sanity, she could throw him a bone. Just this once. “Sharp. I’m tired. If you’re serious about giving me the whole werewolf tutorial, or whatever the hell it is you’ve got in mind, then you can do it tomorrow. It’s Sunday, right? The bar’s closed. I’ve got all day to listen.” Which she’d be a lot more willing to do after a full nights sleep. Duff shrugged his jacket off and tossed it at him, pointedly scowling. “But if you even think about showing up early, I’ll skin your sorry hide. Got it? I don’t do mornings. EVER.” 

“Uh.....yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I’m kinda nocturnal anyway. It’s a habit. Or instinct, I guess,” Sharp took the leather bundle she shoved at him, a slow grin making its way back across his face. “Sounds like you’ve already got that one in hand. So how early is early for you? Afternoon? Mid-afternoon? Want me to wait a full eight hours, give you the best chance at some beauty sleep? Not that you need it-”

Duff didn’t even give him a chance to finish his...was it a compliment? Fuck it, she didn’t care. Sharp could take his cheesy ass lines and shove them where the sun don’t shine. She was done for today. DONE. She’d had enough of werewolves and their morally screwed, obnoxiously caring bullshit. “Good night Sharp!!” The door rattling in its hinges cut him off. At the rate things were going, the sound of her door slamming would be her lullaby for weeks to come. Wasn’t that a lovely thought? “Damn mutt. It’s all his fault,” Duff growled under her breath, stumbling towards the staircase with a yawn. But at least Sharp had the common decency to let her sleep. For that, she couldn’t hate him too much. Even if he was going to bother her later. 

Tch. Screw it. That was tomorrow’s problem.


End file.
